


Gotham Nights

by spinachmachine



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Canon-Typical Violence, Past Selina Kyle/Harleen Quinzel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2019-10-30 01:16:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17819042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinachmachine/pseuds/spinachmachine
Summary: A Retelling of Selina Kyle's Catwoman origins





	1. Bat Raids Club for Falcone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [me](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=me), [bitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitch/gifts).



Selina stared up at the night sky. Something about the large snowflakes floating down from the endless void made her feel microscopic. She let out a small shiver and wrapped her parka around her body tighter.

“Let’s go,” Selina said to her co-worker, “Its freezing out here.”

Her co-worker- Summer, took a long drag from her stubby cigarette, “what’s the point? We freeze out here or get stuck in the crossfire in there. I’d rather freeze.”

She blew the smoke into the alley’s frigid air.

“That makes one of us,” Selina retorted, “I’d rather be warm and dead than cold and dead.”

Summer just shrugged and took another drag.

“So we’re just going to stand here while you smoke?” Selina asked her,

Summer stared at Selina for a moment before letting the smoke seep out of her mouth, “you can go inside if you want,”

“And what? Leave you out here alone?” Selina said,

“Yeah, pretty much,”

“Sure,” Selina took a step towards the door, “I’ll see you back inside.”

“Wait,” Summer said revealing her bluff,

“Are you done then?” Selina raised her brow,

“Yeah, whatever,” Summer dropped the butt of her cigarette and ground it between the toe on her platform and the snowy cement.

Selina held the door open for her as she begrudgingly walked back into the club.

Inside just about every dancer was huddled backstage. The smell of musk and fear hung in the air. The dancers spoke quietly amongst themselves trying to distract one another from the sounds of gunshots and violence. From what Selina had gotten from the other dancers the Bat had come in looking for someone and from his recent activity it was probably Falcone.

“Things used to be so simple before the Bat,” one dancer huffed.

“I know,” Selina said, “I’m not going to be able to make rent this month.”

“Tell that to tall, dark, and batsy,” Summer said, “Like he gives a shit about us.”

Selina gave her co-worker a look, but said nothing.

Eventually the gunshots stopped. Selina got up from the floor and approached the door. There were a few concerned looks from the other dancers, but no one seemed to want to stop her. She opened the door a crack to take a peek.

The club was trashed. Every chair and table was smashed into nothing more than wood splinters. Bullet shells lay in the hundreds across the floor. The walls were cratered in parts and riddled with bullet holes in others. Above all, broken men lay everywhere. Some groaned while others were all together unconscious. All of them seemed to be breathing. In the middle of it all stood a man in black- the Batman. He was larger than Selina expected, but also, more real. It was strange to see a literal living legend. Most of the time he was a dark shadow in the night sky when you really looked hard. The Batman held a man in the air by his collar. He must have said something to the man he held up because he shouted out a name. A plea for mercy was thick in his voice. The Bat swung his elbow up until it made contact with the man’s skull. The man slumped over the Bat’s arm unconscious. Selina slumped to the ground. Her eyes were frozen to what she had just seen. She felt helpless, and terrified. The Batman was no man; he was a force of nature. He was the boogeyman, he was violence personified. He thrived off of this, this ability to incapacitate a man. The Bat turned and saw the puddle of Selina on the floor, but paid no more than a glance at her before vanishing. He doesn’t even care, Selina thought, he doesn’t care what he just cost us.

<<<>>>

Selina wasn’t sure how she managed to drag herself home after everything that night. Still, there she stood before the steps of her apartment. What could be said about the place? It was far from perfect, or even good. It was barely liveable. The walls were cracked, and where they weren’t cracked they were peeling. The floors had shifted long before Selina moved in and creaked with every step; that was the least of her worries with the floors. More than once Selina had glued the floorboards back in place because they kept popping out. The halls were a sickening shade of a grit-coated blue; the natural wood trim was nice though. They were original from when the building had first been built. The entire building reeked of stale cigarettes. Someone kept smoking in the halls and leaving their cigarette butts on the floor. It wasn’t uncommon for her to have to scrape one off of her shoe before entering her apartment.

Selina unlocked her apartment and eased the heavy door shut. The walls were paper thin, but at least the door was sturdy. Inside Selina was greeted by two cats meowing up at her. Godiva was her first cat; she was left by the tenants before her. They saw her as unlucky, black cat superstition. Selina thought about this with distaste while she took off her shoes. Corn, the second cat, was also a stray before he was adopted. Selina had found the black and white cat in a box one day walking home from work. He made himself home in her heart quickly, Godiva, on the other hand, took some getting used to him.

“Hello to you too,” Selina greeted the two cats. She reached down and scratched Corn’s head. He pushed his head into her hand. Godiva meowed again and strutted to her dish in the kitchen.

“I’ll get you your food,” Selina told the cat, “give me a minute to get inside.”

The cat only meowed again. Selina tossed her bag into the corner and went into the kitchen; it was more of a hall, really. The narrow space between the two sides of the galley kitchen was only large enough for one person to comfortably cook, not that that was a problem for Selina anymore. The vinyl floor was permanently stained despite every cleaning solution known to man used on it. Still, it was home, and Selina did her best to keep it usable.

“There you are,” Selina told the cats and she placed their bowls on the ground. Godiva began eating immediately; Corn took another lap around Selina’s legs before inspecting his food and scarfing it down.

Once the cats got their food Selina decided to get herself something too. She grabbed out a bowl and made herself cereal. It was fast, cheap, and filling enough. It also wasn’t ramen. Selina grabbed her dinner and collapsed onto the couch. Up until then, Selina hadn’t allowed herself to think about how she would make rent this month. Now, she was too exhausted to feel the stress of the situation in full force.

Selina hadn’t even realized she had dozed off until she was woken up by the sound of her mail slot opening and a newspaper being pushed into her apartment. Selina gave herself a moment to really wake up before getting her paper. She never signed up for a subscription, but they came every week. As far as she was concerned they were free. Today they would give her an opportunity to find a way to make rent. Mostly they were job ads were for temps, Selina hated the idea of sitting in an office chair wearing polyester and getting harassed by men, but money was money, especially when it was needed. Before the Bat money was no problem, she certainly wasn’t rich, but she had enough to support herself and her ex. Now things were different. Selina had no regrets about her job, she had only wished she had the foresight to save money when she had it. The past few months especially, the club had been shut down more than once on vigilante-related issues, that, and an unexpected vet bill, well, it was a tough month to say the least.  
Selina paged through looking for anything that didn’t scream sitting fluorescent lighting. Finally she came across one that intrigued her:

COLLECTOR IN NEED OF SHORT TERM ASSISTANT

ORGANIZING AND RETRIEVAL

INQUIRE AT ICEBERG LOUNGE:

Below the text was a phone number and the address of the Iceberg Lounge. Selina knew of the place, but had never been in it. It was for people who didn’t need to look at the price before buying something, whose jewelry laughed at the price of her rent. Selina’s first thought was that she wasn’t qualified for the job. She was a night dancer, she thought, she knew nothing about collecting stuff-cats maybe, but that was a newer hobby of hers. Selina shook the idea out of her head; she was just as good as anybody at anything. A job was a job and the worst thing that could happen was not getting the job. And if she didn’t get it she would give the polyester suits another thought. Selina put the newspaper down and left it to the mercy of her cats and cleaned up before heading out. The train came right away, no one harassed her, and there was even an open seat. Selina decided that luck was on her side and this would be the start of something new.

The Iceberg Lounge was a grand, early-20th century building in the older part of Gotham. The building from the outside was all angles, sharp and unforgiving. Selina took a deep breath and started for the door.

Selina couldn’t remember the last time she was somewhere so expensive-looking. The entrance led into a large room lined with tables and a bar on the far end of the room. She figured the stage for live performers was out of view. Large skylights flooded the room with light from the high ceiling. Selina could only imagine what it looked like on a clear night.

“Please state your purpose for being here,” a security guard said,

Selina looked around and saw a man sitting at a desk with a metal engraved sign that said,

ALL VISITORS MUST REPORT TO SECURITY DESK

“I saw the ad in the newspaper,” Selina answered, “about an assistant being needed.”

“And your name,” he said pulling out a clipboard,

“Selina Kyle,” she said,

The guard handed a pen over to Selina, “please write that down. You will need to go through the big room, up the stairs, and the door at the end of the hall.”

Selina filled out the form and handed the pen back. She didn’t bother saying anything more to the security guard, not that he noticed.

She followed the security guards directions and took note of the number of guards in the building. It was normal in Gotham to have security everywhere. The club had more bouncers than any other city she had worked at, but this was almost ridiculous. The big room was lined with security, six more on the stairs, three men stood the hall. It was overkill, even by Gotham standards.

At the end of the hall was an large office with a grand mahogany desk. Selina wasn’t sure about the mahogany part, but it was grand and it was wood. Behind it sat a squat looking man in an expensive looking suit.

“What do you want?” the man asked in a grouchy tone that somehow matched his appearance,

“I saw your ad,” Selina answered, “in the newspaper.”

The man only grunted.

“It said you were in need of an assistant, I thought I could help,” Selina said with far too much confidence for someone who did not even think of bringing a resume.

Selina realized then what an idiot she was. She never once needed a resume, not that she was taught how to make one. She had gotten her current job through Summer, and the one before that through someone else. The one before that was illegal and they didn’t have job applications last time she did crime.

The man glanced her over once before look back at down at his papers, “What makes you qualified?”

“I get results.”

The man looked back up at her, but this time really looked at her. He didn’t look at her the way men looked at her at the club. Those men looked at her completely entranced by her body. The man in front of her looked at her with beady eyes determining her value to him; whether or not she was worthy of the task at hand.

“Are you strong?” he asked,

“I am,” Selina said, “I can lift boxes and whatever.”

“I need something,” the man said, “I need someone strong enough to get it for me.”

“What do you need?”

“I need a necklace,” the man said, “but if you get caught you’re on your own.

Selina took a moment to process the question as to what exactly this man wanted.

Then she furrowed her brow, “you want me to steal?”

“Yes,” the man answered, “Got a problem with that?"

Selina was a little taken aback by how upfront the man was. She could have been anyone, to him she was anyone, and this man had no qualms about asking her to steal. Was this even a real job? Selina thought, there was only one way to find out.

“okay," Selina said to the man,

“Good,” the man smiled, “I want this.”

The man reached into a drawer under his desk and pulled out a brochure from the Gotham Museum. He slid the brochure over the desk and pointed to an emerald necklace on one of the inside flaps. ‘JEWELS OF IMPERIAL RUSSIA’ the title said.

“Like I said,” the man said, “you get caught and you’re on your own. You pull this off, and you get rich.”

“Like I said,” Selina said, “I get results.”


	2. Sexy Cat Burglar Steals Jewels: Where Was The Bat?

In all honesty, Selina wasn’t sure where she was going. She wandered the streets of Gotham aimlessly, feeling the weighty decision she had made in her chest. The only thing keeping her from clawing up the rundown buildings was the sharp, cold air in her lungs. She took gulps of air, focusing on looking as inconspicuous as possible, and allowed her feet to lead on.

This heist was almost overwhelming. Selina had done her fair share of B&Es and burglaries in her younger days, but nothing like this, nothing quite this high profile. This was going to be colossal compared to anything she had ever done before, and she couldn’t wait to get started. She had to admit that she was startled by her willingness to agree to everything. She wanted to brush it off, call it financial desperation, but she knew it was more than that. Sure, the money was reason number one for even going down to The Iceberg Lounge in the first place, but there was something more to it that made her agree to steal the jewels.

Finally her feet stopped and Selina finally zoned into her surroundings. She stood before a small, three storey building. A dark red sign hung above the storefront on the main floor, ‘BEAUDELAIRE’S’, it read. Through the large shop windows Selina could see a blonde woman sitting intently in front of a textbook. A range of emotion hit Selina like a wave, anger, sadness, happiness. Above all, she felt pain. Before she could contemplate her actions, Selina’s hand tapped on the glass window, startling the woman before her.

The woman smiled sadly, ‘Hey,” it seemed to say,

“Can I come in?” Selina gestured,

The woman was hesitant, but nodded,

Selina was aware of how bad of an idea this was. She knew nothing good would come of it, but here she was, crawling back. Harleen was the only person Selina loved so deeply. She was so constant in her life; she knew that there was no way she could truly cut her out even after everything that she had done to her. To do that, thought Selina, would be to cut out a lung.

Inside, Beaudelaire’s was a coffee shop that sold more plants than coffee, not that the coffee was bad, but the manager was malleable to his favourite employee. Selina knew her well, no matter how badly she didn’t want to. The smell of coffee and soil mixed in the humid air. Exotic plants had long since taken over the shelves where various coffee making apparatus once sat, waiting for the right hipster to buy.

“Hey,” Selina said, going in for a hug,

“Hey,” Harleen hugged back, keeping the contact brief between them, “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk,” Selina said, “Not about what happened. It’s something else.”

“Okay,” Harleen said,

“Can I sit?” Selina asked,

Harleen gestured to her table, sure, her expression said, go ahead.

Selina sat down across from her ex, trying her best to knit together everything that had happened into something coherent. She looked up at the person before and just like that her sentences vanished. God, she thought, she’s so beautiful. Harleen had a more professional air about her since the last time Selina had seen her. She wore her hair slicked back into a low bun and actually wore her glasses. All of a sudden Selina felt painfully distant from her, like she stood on a dock waiting to board a ship that had long since sailed away.  
“I-” Selina started, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve come.”

“Wait,” Harleen said, “Please, I want you to know you can still trust me.”

“Can I?” Selina asked,

Harleen gave her a look, but had no argument.

“Tell Pammy that I wish you both the best, professors included.”

Selina stormed out of the shop and slammed the door behind her.

 

Selina walked home after Beaudelaire’s. By the time she reached her crumbling apartment her feet ached and her heels were rubbed raw and bloody. By the time she slammed the door of her apartment she could feel hot tears streaming down her face. She felt like an idiot, Harleen was not the same person she first fell in love with. The old Harleen would never have cheated on her, broken her heart like that, and left with the other woman.

This was all bullshit.

Selina should have known. Harleen was in the past now, now Selina had herself and her cats.

She remembered the way her heart broke the first time. She remembered when Harleen told her she was as leaving, when she walked out holding hands with another woman. Selina should have known and she kicked herself for not seeing it. Pamela was everything Selina wasn’t. She was polished or an academic powerhouse. How could she compete  
with someone like that for Harleen’s attention? They fit each other like a glove, in ways that made Selina almost envious.

Selina lay down on her sofa the rough fabric leaving imprints on her cheek. She allowed herself to be sad, let herself cry a little longer until she was ready to move on.

 

<<<>>>

 

Blueprints, schedules, and various other papers with any sort of information Selina might have needed lay sprawled out on her coffee table. Selina had gone from feeling lost and angry to unbelievably motivated in a matter of hours. Now she had pieces of a puzzle she was determined to solve; The Russian-Jewels Heist. She hadn’t come up with a real name for it yet, but she figured that the actual heist was more important. She paced her tiny living room mentally walking through her heist. She liked to think the pacing helped, that it increased blood flow to the brain, but she knew it was just to keep Corn off of her papers.

Selina could hardly sleep, every thought she had was dedicated to the heist. In the middle of the night she woke up more than once to modify her plan in one way or another. She missed working hard like this. Sure, she was far from genius, but it didn’t mean she couldn’t think. Finally, when all was said and done she stared down at her plans. A feeling of satisfaction came over her, everything was perfect. Now, she thought, to wait until nightfall.

 

Selina stood behind the museum. The sun was minutes away from disappearing entirely from the horizon. She knew she would have to act fast.

“When the sun’s away,” Selina warned herself, “the Bat will play.”

She looked up at the roof. It was a lot higher in person. She grabbed the rain gutter and shook it a couple times to gauge its sturdiness. They were put in a couple years ago; someone thought it was easier to build them on the museum instead of cleaning out the gargoyles; that someone was arrested for embezzling three months later. Selina took a step back and hopped twice to hype herself up. If she was going to do something this stupidly dangerous she was going do it whole heartedly like an asshole.

Selina went at the gutter with as much speed as she could get. She launched herself at the pipe and hauled herself up a few feet. The pipe crunched beneath her weight. She shushed it involuntarily before realizing how stupid that was. Once she got a story high she looked down. Holy shit, she thought to herself, I’m actually doing it.

When she got onto the roof she took a moment to herself. The job had barely started and she was already wiped.

“Man,” Selina said to herself, “I wish I had some music.”

Selina walked over to her gargoyle of choice, it was some sort of grotesque demon with a wide mouth. On a rainy day it would have poured water off the building, but now it was covered in a thin layer of snow. Selina leaned over the gargoyle and pushed. Thankfully, the gargoyle wouldn’t budge.

“Thank god,” Selina said to herself, “That would have sucked if that fell.”

Selina placed her small backpack on her front and upside down. It wasn’t sexy, but it would keep her tools from falling out. She wrapped her legs around the gargoyle and lowered herself until she was facing a grated window on the museum’s top floor. She unzipped her bag and took out a screw driver. She unscrewed the top corner of the metal grate and pried it open as quietly as she could. Next was the window. The building was old, but the windows were new. She thought about smashing the glass, but didn’t want to risk the attention of the guards. Instead, she pulled out a crowbar and pried at the corner of the window.

“C’mon, window,” Selina grunted, “budge.”

Selina was by no means tiny. She had muscle. In fact, she had muscle on her muscle. She had been dancing on the pole before she had even become a stripper. She worked every part of her body. She could out chin up just about every man she met, and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t proud of that. She was more grateful for that now more than ever. Finally, the window opened with a pop. Selina pushed the window open and slid in.

 

<<<>>>

 

Selina woke up the next morning a little achier than she anticipated. In actuality, she hadn’t expected just how sore she was going to be. She didn’t hate it; it felt like the day after a good work out. Selina stretched out in her bed to test just how sore she was before getting up.  
In the kitchen Godiva lay on the counter and basked in the morning sun. A newspaper was wedged in her mail slot haphazardly. Selina carefully wiggled the wad of paper through the rest of the way without ripping it. Already she could see the front page’s headline through the plastic wrap. Selina ripped the plastic off and tossed it aside.

'SEXY CAT BURGLAR STEALS RUSSIAN JEWELS'

Below that was a blurry shot of her from what appeared to be a security camera in black and white, her back faced the camera as she was caught mid-run. Below that was the actual article. It was atrocious. ‘Womanly features’ her ass, Selina thought. She worked her hard for this, and sure, she was lucky the Bat was preoccupied, but she planned that shit. She deserved proper recognition. Despite the blatant sexism of the article she had to admit she was pretty proud of herself, she was front page news, and from what the article said, she would be in the clear. Police were looking for a duo, man and woman, not her. As far as she could tell, she was in the clear. Selina looked over at a duffel bag of money in the corner of her apartment. She finally had money. Despite her tarnished victory she could at least smile at that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At first I was conflicted about the relationship I was gonna do for these characters, but y'all... If they're the Gotham City Sirens, and they're queer, they would be exes. It's just how the wlw dating pool works.  
> Also, I am so sorry for the awkwardness of having to post this after chapters 4 and 5. I didn't realize it DIDNT UPLOAD the first time around. It's whack, I know.


	3. Vigilante Bat-Man's Busiest Night to Date

One heist turned into two, which turned into three, and then four. Selina could hardly keep up. A jewellery store, a mansion, anywhere she could get in. It wasn’t even about the money, one heist and she had more than enough until the club was reopened; now it was about the thrill.

The heists were good, really good. The newspapers, however, weren’t. She was called everything under the sun, and then some. ‘Sexy’ had barely scratched the surface of what they called her. She was sexy, then she was slutty, then bimbo. She was nothing but an inflatable toy to play with, call sexy, and then dump to page eight at the first whiff of the Batman. At first Selina ignored it all, the backlash, the objectification, even the impending doom of her eventual encounter with the Bat, but it became harder with every heist. The bigger the reward, the bigger the risk, and the rewards were big. She became more comfortable with the identity given to her, cat-burglar, she knew she had to play with that one. Stealing cats wasn’t her thing, but a costume?

Selina blasted music in her shitty apartment. Her next heist pinned to her walls as she put the finishing touches on her new outfit. All black, just the way she liked it. Little ears poked out of the hood, rough hand-stitching practically welded the fabrics together; it wasn’t perfect, but it would do.

<<<>>>

Getting in was all too easy. It was fun, but it could have been funner-more fun? Who cared? She was stealing. This time is was some rich asshole’s mansion. She would have remembered the name, but at this point they all blurred together. All she knew was that it was some balding, rich white guy with a wife far too young for him to keep up with, not that that narrowed it down at all. He probably exploited the poor, all rich assholes did, and like all rich assholes, he had some nice shit ripe for the picking.

Selina did her best not to ogle every time she broke into a mansion, but it was hard not to. It was truly astonishing how much one person could have. They would have bathrooms the size of her apartment, her entire apartment. Who needed a shower and a bathtub, she thought, you only needed one. This guy had marble floors. They were glossy and reflected the night that shone through the windows. It was pretentious, and extravagant, did Selina want that? Maybe, but right now wasn’t the time to think about that, she was stealing.

Tip toeing from room to room she found what she was looking for. A large room was chalk full of artefacts from around the world. Masks hung against the back wall, broken pottery sat on a display directly in front of the entrance, and all of it was behind glass. Selina examined the displays until she found the one. A tiny pearl pendant that belonged to Marie Antoinette sat on a velvet pillow. It was adorable and elegant, and expensive. Selina looked closer through the glass and examined the display carefully. It looked easy enough, now all she needed was to get the pendant and get out.

“It’s quite the cat-ch, isn’t it,” a deep voice said behind her

Selina let out a small laugh at the bad joke and turned around. Standing before her was the Batman.

“The Bat and the Cat,” Selina said, “That’ll be quite the tale.”

“One that never had to happen, we never had to have met,” the Bat retorted, “step away from the display.”

“Except for the part where we have met before,” Selina corrected, “and I won’t.”

“Step away from the pendant,” the Bat repeated, this time it was more of a command.

“Make me,” Selina smirked with a level of confidence she did not expect.

Barely a second later the Bat went in for the attack. From his cloak he threw two objects- shurikens, Selina would have guessed if she had the time. Quickly Selina dodged them and guarded herself from the approaching vigilante. She used her forearms to protect herself from an oncoming knee, and brought herself up and around quick enough to avoid a fist to the face. Selina could hardly think straight with the speed of the blows and the rush of adrenalin. She brought her hand up to strike, but copped out into another defensive block from a right hook leaving a line of scratches along the Batman’s exposed jaw. Though Selina couldn’t tell, she was sure the Bat was a little shocked at his untouchable exterior deteriorating before her. The scratch wasn’t all that deep, but it was enough to leave a mark in the morning. The Bat then used his mass and charged into Selina, throwing her off balance, wrapping his arms around her body and squeezing tightly. Selina knew she wasn’t strong enough to break free, not with him squeezing the air out of her body like a boa constrictor. She had seconds left before blacking out, craning her neck she pressed her lips against the Bat’s and worked her tongue into his mouth. The Bat loosened just enough for Selina to wriggle free. She took another moment just to keep going, waiting for the right time to strike.  
Once her ribs were no longer threatening to pop her lungs she took her chance. Selina rammed her knee into his groin hard. The Bat was taken aback, and Selina delivered her final blow.  
She grabbed his arm and twisted it until it was begging to come out of its socket and threw him over her body and into the display smashing the glass. The Bat groaned having the wind knocked out of him. Selina hauled him off the display to grab the pendant beneath him.

“See you around, handsome,” Selina said as she picked up what she came for, broken glass crunching underfoot. 

It wasn’t until she was home that she reveled in her victory. Not only had she gone toe-to-toe with the Bat, but she had gone toe-to-toe with the Bat and won. She stared at the tiny pendant in her palm, a giddy feeling bubbled up inside of her. She touched her lips with her other hand, she could still feel the ghost of his lips on hers. It tasted different, like something just out of reach, like want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can I just say that I have written more of this story and let me tell you, I take this story to some weird places. It'll be a good time.


	4. The Bat Spotted Near Back Alley Explosion

Selina hadn’t seen the Bat for weeks. She figured he had other, more dangerous criminals to deal with; News from the underground said the Joker had been acting up lately. The Bat was terrifying, and one hell of a force to reckon with, but he was only one Bat. He could only clean one house at a time.

Speaking of, Selina had a grand old time cleaning house, one after the other, every one more delicious than the last. She crouched before an apartment building, stalking her prey. Okay, so she had taken the whole ‘cat-thing’ a little too far, but everyone else had taken their ‘alter-egos’ to a whole new level so Selina thought it was about time she do the same. So, there she sat, stalking her prey. The apartment building was one hell of a complex, she would know, she had lived there when she was younger before the rich and white took it over. What could she say, gentrification was a bitch, but vengeance made the pickings that much sweeter.

“Cat-woman,” a voice greeted, smooth and rich,

“Is that what they call me now?” Selina asked, she turned around to see the Bat, “I’ve been called worse, but I’m sure you know that. Tell me are your lips usually that soft?”

The Bat said nothing.

“I’m not judging you. I am dying to know, though.”

“Where is the pendant?” The Bat asked,

“Pendant? I don’t recall...” Selina shrugged,

“Don’t toy with me,” the Bat said,

“Now, now,” Selina said standing up, “no need to lose your head over it.”

Selina couldn’t help but let out a laugh. Something about the mask made her far too cocky around the Bat and it was almost scary.

“C’mon, that was funny.” Selina insisted, “Marie Antoinette, lose your head, get it?”

The Batman only stared her down.

“I don’t have it.” Selina told him, jumping down from her roost. It wasn’t a total lie. She didn’t have it on her; it was at home in a box.

“Don’t lie to me.” He said,

“That tone sounds awfully threatening.” Selina said, refusing to back down.

“It is.” He growled,

“I don’t like threats,” Selina circled the Bat as she spoke; “I also don’t have it on me. You could search me, but that’d only prove I’m right.”

Selina realized what she said as soon as she said it, but it was too late to turn back.

“Is that a promise?” the Bat smirked.

“Huh,” she said, “if that’s what it takes to get something out of you, but you have to catch me first.”

Selina turned and ran.

She didn’t look back to see if the Bat would follow, she knew. Now, she had to lose him. She used every trick she knew, every tight spot, short cut, and hidden corner the city had to offer in order to lose him, but still he wouldn’t shake. It was quite the challenge, with terrible consequences if she failed, but she loved every second of it. It felt wrong for it to be so exhilarating. Finally, she stopped on the roof of a tiny building.

“I must say,” Selina called out, panting, “You know this city almost as well as I do.”

The Bat didn’t so much as smirk, “almost.”

Selina jumped down between the buildings and climbed up a rusted fire escape. The fragile frame rattled with every movement, but as long as she was careful she knew it could hold up, for her at least. The Batman followed closely, but slowed down as he tried to keep his movements light.

“How about this,” Selina proposed, “you let me go, and I don’t make you a fool.”

The Bat didn't even stop to consider her proposal.

“Suit yourself,” Selina shrugged and climbed up the escape.

Once she made it up to the top of the building she jumped down, hoping the climb gave her enough space to lose the Bat, which was a lot to hope for. It was, in fact, too much to hope for. As soon as she landed on the pavement of the street she heard the Bat follow.

“Jesus,” she cursed, “Can’t you take a hint?”

The Bat said nothing. It was like talking to a brick wall, Selina thought. All she wanted was one more reaction out of him, and a painless escape, but she knew she wasn’t going to get anything she wanted tonight.

Selina was tired of running. She stood up tall and prepared for a fight. The Bat came closer, and she took a deep breath, a silent prayer she would have as much luck as last time.  
The seconds following were a blur. Before they could reach each other a truck pulled into the back alley. The sound of it skidding to a halt bounced off the buildings that cornered them in. Men piled out of the truck, then the sound of guns cocking. Selina didn’t know how she managed to react, but she did. She dove at the Bat and they tumbled towards the ground. She covered her ears and they opened fire.

Bullets ripped the air and dug into the sides of buildings. Selina couldn’t feel anything, and she wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. It must have lasted seconds, but they were the longest seconds she ever had to survive. Finally, the guns stopped firing.

“Are...Are they dead?” someone asked,

“...I don’t know.”

“Is anything moving in there?” another man called out, his voice further away than the others.

“No,”

“Alright,” she could hear the first man say, “job well done, guys.”

The sound of feet shuffling as the men arranged themselves back in the truck was almost the sound of safety to Selina, almost.

She turned to look at the Bat, who lay still underneath her.

“You owe me,” she whispered to him,

“What are you doing?” a voice asked from the truck.

Selina held her breath, waiting for what would happen next.

“Just to be on the safe side,” another man answered,

There was the sound of something small and metal hitting the ground. A pin. Then there was silence, deafening silence. Before she could feel the impact Selina was flipped to the ground, and the Bat was on top of her. The explosion was powerful, but short lived. Selina opened her eyes, amazed at her survival. Above her, the Bat grimaced.

“Consider us even,” he said through gritted teeth.

Selina said nothing. She didn’t know what there was to say.

Moments later a car showed up. It was black, it was fast, and it was expensive. Selina didn’t know cars; she barely knew how to drive. The Bat stood up slowly and hobbled to his car. She didn’t know if she should help him, so she didn’t. Instead she took the chance to escape, jumping back up on the fire escape. She didn’t care about how loud she was, she knew the Bat was in no position to chase her. She watched the Bat drive off from above until his car disappeared into the night.

Did that just happen? She thought to herself.

Selina made her way home, rooftop to rooftop, and carefully through her window. Her cats waited for her, meowing at her, complaining at the hour she came home and the mess she made coming in. She apologized quietly and prepared for bed.

<<<>>>

To say she was sore was an understatement. The bruise on her ass throbbed, throbbed. She had had bruises before, pole was an unforgiving sport, but this was different. It throbbed. What kind of bruise does that? She thought to herself. She moved carefully, checking for anything broken, but she felt okay beyond her monstrous bruises.

Selina hauled herself out of bed and dragged herself to the bathroom. Her costume lay in a pile by the tub. She looked in the mirror, and God, she looked awful. Her eyeliner ran down her face, and she was covered in dirt. She knew she should have showered before bed, but she was too tired to. Being shot at, blown up and chased by the Bat was exhausting.

She showered quickly and did her best to avoid her bruises, last time she was a burglar it wasn’t this much of a contact-sport. With that Selina remembered the reason she went out in the first place.

Selina leaned out of the tub and riffled through last night’s pile of clothes. Her stolen goods were gone.

“That bastard!” She cursed.


	5. Batman: Friend or Foe?

As Selina walked down the street she lifted her head to greet the sun every time a cloud finally passed under it. Last night was a failure, but she wasn’t mad about it. Sure, she cursed the Bat out, but she was in shock that he saved her than anything else she felt- soreness included. She knew it wasn’t in him to kill, granted he had come awfully close to it on more than one occasion with particularly feisty criminals, but this was something else entirely. She tried her best not to dwell on it, staring through the windows of the shops down the street in an attempt to distract herself with sparkly things, but she couldn’t focus on anything else.

“Fuck,” she muttered, moving her gaze to herself own reflection, but her eyes didn't catch her own in the glass.

Instead she caught the eyes of two men across the street. They stared at her like a piece of meat, like prey. This wasn’t like the club either, she couldn’t alert security, it was just her now.

“Fuck,” she groaned,

Selina took a deep breath and continued walking, careful not to show fear in her steps. Without the mask she felt exposed, peeled down to her muscle, and vulnerable. Was the mask a crutch or her liberator? Selina asked herself, but she didn’t know the answer.

She didn’t need to turn to know that she was being followed by them. The sound on their shoes on the gritty pavement was loud enough. As soon as she turned the corner she ducked into the first shop on the corner and delved deep into the store. It took her a second to realize someone was trying to talk to her.

“Excuse me,” a voice said, “Is something wrong?”

Selina looked up to see a man in a suit giving her a concerned look, not just any man, Bruce Wayne.

Holy shit, she thought, that’s Bruce Wayne.

“I uh,” she started to lie, but her brain couldn’t think of anything, “There are men outside.”

The man looked out the glass windows and saw them. It was obvious they were looking for someone.

“Can I help?” he asked,

Selina nodded.

“Stay right there,” he said,

He took a step closer, covering her from the view of the front of the store as the men looked in through the glass. Selina held her breath. After a moment the men shrugged and continued their search down the street.

“Thank you,” Selina looked up, she had no idea Bruce Wayne was fucking built.

“Are you okay?” he asked,

“Yeah,” she said,

“Good,” he smiled, “they’ll still be looking for you. I recommend you stay here for a little bit.”

“Yeah,” Selina smiled back, “thanks.”

“Would you like me to stick around?”

“You don’t have anything better to do?”

“Over the safety of someone else?” he shook his head,

“Yeah, alright,”

He smiled at her. His eyes crinkled as he grinned.

“I’m Bruce Wayne,” he introduced himself,

“Selina,” she said back, “Kyle.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” he held out his hand, “despite the circumstances.”

Selina shook it.

Bruce Wayne was damn rich, but she didn’t need to talk to him to know that. Even from a single glance you could tell his suit said rich bitch. But, talking to him was a different story. He was polite, and intelligent, and surprisingly humble. He was easy to talk to too. He looked at her without judgement, and actually listened to what she had to say. God damn if she could find someone like that. Selina lost track of time talking to him.

“Can I give you a ride home?” he asked,

Selina took a moment to answer.

“Yeah,” she said, “yeah, okay.”

“I’ll have my car brought around front,” he said before getting in.

He drove a Lamborghini. The dark blue colour reflected the city around it. Damn, Selina thought. She wasn’t into cars, but if there was a car that could get her into them this would be the one. Bruce Wayne walked over to the passenger side and opened the door for her.

“Custom paint,” he said,

Selina closed her mouth and got in.

The car purred. It took everything in her not to purr back, she contemplated if she was able to fall in love with a car. She tried not to look over and stare at the man next to her. Everything about the situation was surreal. He was so calm and cool as he turned down the streets of Gotham. His car was a stark contrast to the crime-ridden streets around it. They talked about nothing in particular, their favourite foods, restaurants they’d liked, and the weather.  
Finally Selina told him where to stop.

“Thank you for the ride,” she said, stepping out, “I’m just over here.”

She pointed in a general direction behind her.

Bruce Wayne looked around outside his car before opening his mouth,

“This isn’t where you live, is it?” he asked,

“Nope,” Selina smiled,

“That’s fair,” he shrugged, “Before you go, could I invite you to my gala?”

“A gala?”

“Yeah,” he said, “It’s, uh, coming up and I’d love it if you came. It’s a fundraiser.”

“How much should I donate?” she asked,

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, “so I’ll see you there?”

“Yeah,” she said, “see you then.”

She leaned out of his car and walked down the street. He pressed his horn twice and drove off.

Selina walked down the street another three blocks. By the time she made it home the sun glowed orange as it skimmed the horizon and the events of the afternoon no longer buzzed in her veins. Her mood, however, was permanently lifted. She had just been invited to some high brow party. Things were looking up, Selina thought collapsing onto her couch, finally. She reached out and scratched Corn’s fur, his tail tickled her wrist.

“Hey,” she cooed, “We’re moving up.”

Just as Corn settled down next to her the neighbours started.

Thudthudthudthudthud.

Selina groaned, “Not again.”

“Maybe we should move up,” she said to Corn, “huh?”

Godiva wandered into the living room, meowing loudly.

Selina took it as a ‘yes’.

<<<>>>

The next few days were horrendous. From what Selina had gotten from looking at apartment after apartment is that Gotham was not livable. No one should ever live in Gotham. One in particular with cracks down the walls and a man in the bathroom made her grateful for the building she lived in and all its filthy glory. She was ready to give up when she found the one.

“Top floor with a balcony, large windows, and high ceilings- It’s perfect,” Selina explained to her cats while stepping into her catsuit.

Godiva meowed at her.

Selina meowed back, hoping it was the right answer.

“I’ve got to run out tonight, but I’ll be back early,” she told them, “I promise.”

With that she jumped out into the night.

<<<>>>

“Why did you save me?” a voice asked from behind,

“Jesus,” Selina jumped, “does that work on all the criminals?”

The Bat didn’t respond.

“I thought an I.O.U. from the Batman would come in handy one day,” Selina said, “Too bad you managed to save my life right after. Now I just look like a good person.”

“Is that what they call me now?” he said, there was almost a hint of humour in his voice.

“Ha ha,” Selina rolled her eyes, “you know not all of your enemies are stone-cold killers.”

He was silent.

“Now,” she said to him, “I’m not doing anything illegal. I’m just a, uh, woman dressed as a sexy cat taking a late night rooftop stroll.”

She turned to look at the Bat, but he was gone.

“Well okay then,” she said to herself,

She turned back around and looked down into the street. Inside the display of the store she looked into was exactly what she came for. Adorned by a mannequin was the perfect black dress. From the moment she saw it she knew it would be perfect for a gala.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you stick around for the next chapter, I had fun writing it.  
> Also, I added chapter names. I got the idea procrastinating something fierce.


	6. Busy Night For Batman as Gotham Holds Wayne Gala

Selina walked up to the gala absolutely beaming. Everything was exquisite, the stone steps up to the building, the waiters walking around in crisp suits carrying trays of hors d’oeuvres and flutes of champagne, it was all so lavish.

“Miss Kyle,” a voice greeted,

Selina looked over to see Bruce Wayne walking over,

“Mr. Wayne,” she said back,

“I’m glad you could make it,”

“Me too. All of this is amazing,” Selina admitted, “Thank you for inviting me.”

“The honour is mine,” he said holding out his arm for her to take,

She took his arm and together they walked into the party.

For all it was on the outside, it did not do the interior justice. It made the Iceberg Lounge look like a greasy spoon. Marble sprawled across the floor in elaborate designs giving her   
heels a satisfying click with every step and a massive skylight gave way to the dusk outside. The party was big, people stood everywhere talking amongst each other, laughing and truly enjoying themselves. God, Selina thought, I could do this every night.

“...If none of the drinks walking around are to your liking there is also a bar off the room of the right,” Bruce Wayne explained, but she was only half listening,

“First gala?” he asked,

“Hmm, is it that obvious?”

He let out a small laugh, “the first one is always the most exciting. After that, they all just kinda blur together.”

“As if that’s a bad thing,”

He let out a laugh, “I have some host duties to take care of, but I’ll meet with you later. Please, enjoy.” He said before running off,

She grabbed a flute of champagne off a passing tray and stood there admiring the party. It was a dream, one she didn’t want to wake up from.

Selina spoke with a couple people, but nothing of any real importance. She didn’t mean to sound recluse, but how was she supposed to relate to someone buying the wrong baby   
grand piano, or buying a third car, or anything anyone else had to say to her. She might have looked the part, barely, but she didn’t act the part. From then things had taken a sour turn. Word had gotten out about her previous occupation, and things got so, so much worse. It started with side eyes, something she had thought was just her imagination at first, the odd comment, and women keeping their husbands at bay. She made her way to the bar and ordered something strong.

“They say you were a stripper,” the bartender said, sending over her drink, “that true?”

“Do I get a wad of ones if I answer yes?” she asked, downing her second glass,

“No,” the bartender shrugged, “but you get my respect. How does a stripper get invited to something like this?”

“How does a bartender like you get in?” she retorted, stabbing at the ice in her drink with her straw.

“I’m a regular employee of Mr. Wayne’s,” they said, “How I managed to land a gig like that in the first place? Don’t know.”

“Speaking of,” Selina said, “where is he? I haven’t seen him since he greeted me at the door.”

The bartender made a noise, “He’s like that, y’know? He’ll show up sooner or later.”

“I’m not sticking around for later,” she said, “how much do I owe you?”

“Ma’am, it’s an open bar,”

“Oh,” Selina said set a wad of fifties on the bar, “Well then, give me whatever that is.”

Selina pointed to a tall bottle on the back wall. The bartender obliged.

“Thank you,” Selina said, and with that she sauntered towards the exit.

She could hear muttered comments under people’s breaths. Whore, slut, harlot. Harlot? Who even said that anymore? Selina thought.

“It can be honest work,” she could hear someone argue, "more honest than some of you."

She didn’t bother to look to see who it was, she knew.

In the sea of disapproving faces she held her head high, careful not to look at anyone in particular. She was leaving on her own terms, and with dignity. How dare anyone judge   
her like for being a stripper. She worked hard and she did what she needed. She liked stripping and dancing. She liked the burn of a long day working through choreography, the heat of the spotlight on her as she performed. It wasn’t for everyone, but it meant something to her even if she no longer did it.

She walked out into the street, hailed a cab and rode home, drinking straight from the bottle. She turned back one last time and saw someone standing out in the street watching her drive off.

"Thank you, Bruce," she said, almost a whisper.

<<<>>>

Selina stumbled through her door. She had lost the paper bag that covered her wine bottle in the hallway. The place was dark except for the glow of the street lights that came through the windows. When she turned on the lamp in the entrance her cats came over just to meow at her, probably annoyed by being woken up.

“Hellooo, kitties,” Selina slurred, “tonight was fun.”

Godiva sat down and stared at her through squinting eyes,

“Well, it was fun,” Selina explained trying to get her dress off, “the last half could have been better.”

Corn rubbed his head against Selina’s leg, which reminded her how much her feet hurt in her heels. She mumbled something like a thanks to Corn for the reminder and took another swig. She did her best to balance on one foot to undo the buckles on her shoe before giving up.

“Valentino or not, they’re coming with me,” Selina announced matter-of-factually to her cats and stomped to the bathroom. She filled the bath with water, and sat in the tub, dress and all. She took a long sigh and chugged the rest of the bottle right there. 

Corn had followed her part way down the hall before stopping and turning to go back to sleep. Godiva, on the other hand, followed her to the bathroom. She sat on the toilet seat cover and judged Selina quietly.

“What? It was expensive,” Selina defended to her cat,

Godiva only stared at her, not that Selina was expecting an answer from her.

Selina continued to sit in silence in the tub accompanied by the judgement of her cat until there was knock at her door.

“Come on in, but don’t let the cats out!” Selina called out before realizing how dangerous that was,

The door opened and in walked a very confused looking man in a very expensive looking suit. Bruce Wayne.

“Hello?” the man called out,

“Hello!” Selina waved over,

The man turned to see Selina’s drunken state. A look of shock crossed his face before regaining his composure.

“What are you doing?” the millionaire laughed,

“I’m drunk,” Selina answered, “what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” Bruce Wayne explained,

“I’m drunk,” Selina said again,

“I can see that,” he laughed,

“I’m drunk,” Selina said, but this time quieter,

“I couldn’t get my shoes off,” Selina said lifting her leg up and reaching for the clasp,

“Allow me,” he said reaching out,

“Wait,” Selina said sitting still. Bruce Wayne froze,

“Okay,” Selina said, and he relaxed and started unclasping her shoes.

“Thank you,” Selina said,

“You’re welcome,” he said back.

Selina tried to keep her head up enough while the Bruce Wayne was in her bathroom. She wanted to be worried about how her shitty apartment must have looked to a man worth more than her phone number, but while the thought was there she felt nothing but woozy.

“How was the party?” she asked,

Bruce Wayne let out a small laugh, “It was alright, it could have been better.”

“You’re telling me,” Selina said, “who do you even hang out with? I mean, sure I may be alone, but at least I’m not surrounded by assholes.”

Selina paused to hiccup.

“Who even says that to someone? Does money compensate for human decency? Is Bill Gates like that? I think you need new friends.”

“They’re not my friends,” he said,

“Oh,” said Selina, “what a bunch of assholes.”

He only smirked.

“I’m getting up,” Selina said suddenly, somewhat losing her balance on the way up. Bruce Wayne held out his hand for her, but she got up on her own without flashing him, something of an accomplishment if she did say so herself.

“I’m okay,” Selina said rather delayed, 

“Okay,” Bruce Wayne said, holding his hands out still,

“Thank you,” Selina said again,

“You’re welcome,” he responded, “Are you okay from here?”

“I’m okay,” Selina said, “I’ll let you out.”

“Okay,” Bruce Wayne said,

<<<>>>

Selina woke up less hungover than she thought she would be. Sure, the light was too bright and sound too loud, but she could remember what happened the night before, unfortunately. She rolled over and covered her ears with her blanket as if it would block out the memory of last night. She was disappointed in everyone, and yet, somehow she expected nothing less from Gotham’s one percent.

Everyone except Bruce Wayne. He treated her with respect, which wasn’t what was expected for someone who was known as Gotham’s playboy. Maybe that’s why so many women liked to be around him, Selina thought. Nice men were hard to find, even harder were the rich ones. She considered being one of those women who flocked the man, but decided not to. She was better off on her own. Besides, she thought, what if he didn’t like cats? She reached out from under the covers and started scratching at a sleeping cat, she wasn’t entirely sure which one, but from the size she guessed it was Godiva.

“Wait a minute,” Selina said,

“Bruce Wayne was in my apartment,” she said in horrified realization, “Holy shit!”

Selina jerked up, scaring off the cat.  
“How did he know where I live?”

It took Selina a moment for everything to come together.

“Aw, Fuck!” Selina said, “I’ve got a stalker!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dedicate drunk Selina to my friend.  
> You are an inspiration when you consume alcohol, you are my muse. I love you, but please don't ever go to the club in a skirt again.  
> Love,  
> me.


	7. Explosion Spree Continues: What's A Bat To Do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter, nice.  
> Just a heads up, no animals are/were/will be harmed in this story. I don't play that way.  
> Never have, never will.
> 
> Also, self-congratulations because I honestly thought I would abandon this story by now.

From her vantage point Selina could see almost the entire estate. Wayne Manor was an appropriate name for the place. The land was huge, lush greenery scattered on perfectly manicured grass. The Manor itself was dark and brooding in contrast. The large windows on the multiple floors were blacked out, keeping anything inside hidden from view. It stood tall and elegant above Gotham overlooking its financial playground. She knew she should have probably been nicer about the place. The Wayne family did good for Gotham, did.

“Planning your next heist?” a voice said from behind her,

Selina looked over her shoulder and saw the Batman.

“No,” she admitted, “but it’s a good idea. How many things do you think could go missing before Wayne notices?”

There was no answer.

“I’d say you could get through five rooms of stuff before anyone noticed.”

“What are you doing here?” the Bat asked,

“Bruce Wayne has some answers to questions I have.”

He said nothing.

“Don’t worry; no burglary in the plan for tonight. Only some light trespassing, but nothing beyond what you do.”

Selina turned and saw there was no one behind her anymore,

“Well,” she said to herself, “at the very least say good bye.”

Moments later a car approached the mansion, taking a leisurely pace down the driveway. By the time it reached the door a man waited outside to greet it. Bruce Wayne stepped out of the car and the man bowed to greet him slightly. Selina rolled her eyes, of course he had a butler. The two of them stepped in the manor and closed the door behind them.  
Getting in was difficult, but she made do. The place was surrounded by one hell of a security system, but it was no match for Selina. Inside Wayne Manor was an absolute gold mine beyond her imagination. The couches were leather, Italian probably, because that’s the only leather rich people buy, she guessed. An old time-y globe stood at the end of one couch that everything seemed to be centered around. There were about a million useless chairs, each next to some sort of expensive antique. The place was ripe for the picking.

“Damn,” She couldn’t help saying out loud.

Downstairs she could hear the butler and the billionaire talking, their muffled voices carrying through the winding halls. No one seemed to have heard her, so Selina allowed   
herself the distraction of all the things she could steal. How could she live with herself if she didn’t take the opportunity? She knew Bruce Wayne would be fine if a Faberge egg or two went missing. She grabbed a gold plated ornament off the mantel of the fireplace before turning to leave the room.

“That isn’t yours,” said a voice at full volume,

She turned around to see the Batman standing over her.

“Shhh!” she shushed harshly, “they’ll hear us.”

“Put it back,” he told her.

“Will you shut up if I do?”

The Batman said nothing.

She took the ornament and set it down gently, careful not to make a noise.

“There, can I go?”

“No.”

“So what if something goes missing from under his nose? He wouldn’t even notice,” she said,

The Bat’s mouth twitched. She didn’t bother trying to figure out if it was a smirk or a sneer he was trying to stifle.

“C’mon,” she said, “I’ll even make sure it’s sold back to him.”

“Why are you really here? To steal?” he ask, full volume,

“Shut up,” she said in a hurried whisper, “They’re going to hear you. And, I am really here to talk to him. He knows where I live and I need to know how.”

“Why am I telling you this?” she furrowed her brow, “anyways, the –whatever this is supposed to be, the bird-thing is because how could I not grab something while I’m here? It’s not like I’m going to be able to ever get in again. Also, I bought some shoes and they were more expensive than I thought they would be. Now, will you let me go?”

“No.”

“Asshole,” Selina whispered, rolling her eyes before making a break for it.

The Bat followed her, gaining quickly on her tail. She managed to get down the hall and to the top of the stairs before he caught up to her, tackling her to the ground. He shifted himself on top of her until he straddled her. Her limbs caught under him, she struggled against his weight. She managed to wriggle an arm free. Using the opportunity given to her she grabbed his inner thigh and scratched the sensitive area, then bucked with her hips, throwing his centre of gravity before using her legs and hauling him off her and down the stairs. She lay on her back for a moment just to catch her breath and to revel in the fact that that had actually worked.

Selina picked herself up, keeping an eye on the Bat the entire time. He seemed to be fine for someone who had just been thrown down a flight of stairs, not that she truly cared about his well being, she just didn’t want to be a murderer is all. She wasted no time sneaking out the way she came, leaving everything where she found it. She didn’t want to risk the Bat again, this time was too close. She ran as fast as she could until she could climb the rooftops of Gotham, using them until she reached the heart of her God forsaken city. 

She ducked down and into her old building.

The city was quiet tonight, for Gotham. She figured it was an off night and shrugged it off as she walked down the hall to her apartment. Everything was in boxes, or at least, it was supposed to be. Instead her place was empty. Not even her cats were home.

“Hello?” Selina called out clenching her fists until her knuckles were white. Where were her cats?

On the floor in front of her were wind up teeth and a piece of paper with almost completely illegible writing. She did her best to make it out. It was an address and a threat.

BE THERE OR BE DEAD.

Slowly the teeth began to open and slowly began to close. It opened again followed by the sound of something clicking.

Click...

Click...

Click...

“Fuck.”

Selina turned and ran into the hall as fast as she could. She could feel the heat of the explosion on her back and she collapsed to the floor.

She opened her eyes when she could no longer feel an inferno on her face. She clutched her ringing and got up, searching desperately for her cats, calling out in a strained voice.   
There was no answer, but she knew they had to be okay. They had to be, or there would be more than hell to pay.

<<<>>>

“What kind of hell did we bring on us?” One guy asked, “Those cats are demons.”

He held a cloth to his eye, but the blood still dripped onto the floor. The other guys told him his eye would be okay, but he knew it wouldn’t.

“I don’t know, man,” said another guy, “I mean, I know I signed up for some weird ass shit, you know, with crime in Gotham but, this, this is fucking insane.”

“Shut up, man,” another guy said, walking into the room, “if the boss catches you saying shit like that you know what’s gonna happen, right?”

“Shit,” the first guy sniffled.

“What happens when the owner of those little monsters come?” the second guy said,

“We’ll be ready,” the third guy said, looking over worriedly, “We gotta be.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and thank you for reading my work.  
> I am going through some stuff right now and I decided to take that energy and put it towards something positive. I wanted to make something. This work was not meant for the masses so I am sure I will get things wrong, I apologize if I do. Also, I plan on posting more chapters.  
> Still, I hope you enjoy reading this. If not, don't tell me.  
> -spinachmachine


End file.
